


Wine of Life

by strawbebby (sourweather)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Biting, Blow Jobs, God complexes, Hand Jobs, M/M, Teeth kink, Violence, biting kink, i have no choice but to stan, violence kink, will wakes up everyday and chooses violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29969955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourweather/pseuds/strawbebby
Summary: "I've been...thinking a lot about teeth, lately."Hannibal's amusement became more apparent. "You're interested in teeth?""Interested in what they can do," He clarified. "Yours. Mine. Mostly yours."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 141





	Wine of Life

**Author's Note:**

> please don't call me out for being sinful I'm aware
> 
> I just love teeth is that such a crime

Will lurked in the shadow of the doorway, peering into the light of the bathroom. He wondered if Hannibal knew he was there, in his bedroom, just out of sight. Will watched as Hannibal brushed his teeth, as carefully as any artist cleans his tools. Will feels his mouth fill with saliva. 

In an instant, Will was transported. He stood in Francis Dolarhyde's house, watching him rip Chilton's lips from his face. Will swallowed. 

Near the cliff that ushered in his rebirth, he watched their fated fight with Dolarhyde replay. Hannibal sinks his teeth into the Dragon's neck, ripping his flesh away and sending blood in a cursed cresent around them. He felt his pulse thrumming wildly under his skin. 

He stood above his own body as an outside observer, watching as he bit into Cordell. Like a phantom pain from a life altering injury, Will felt the sensation of warm, metallic blood filling his mouth, flooding his senses. The feeling of his teeth separating flesh from flesh felt close, as if it had only happened minutes before.

"It's rude to stare, Will," Hannibal said after his mouth was properly rinsed. His voice was amused, teasing. 

Of course he knew, he could probably smell Will. He tried to steady his breathing. What else could Hannibal sense? 

He stepped in from the shadows, looking at the two of them in Hannibal's bathroom mirror. 

"I was lost in thought," Will said, and his words came out woefully unconvincing. 

"Is there much to ruminate on, in the corner of my bedroom?" Hannibal replied. 

Hannibal opened a drawer, pulling out a container of floss and pulling it taught between his fingers. 

"Sorry," Will said, watching the other man's hands rise to his mouth. 

They shared a tense silence as Hannibal continued his evening routine. Will knew it well by now. Shower, skin care, brush, floss, mouthwash. Will leaned against the shower door, still warm from its recent use. Hannibal liked to shower twice daily, before and after sleeping. Will wondered if he was allowed to, when he was incarcerated. 

Will watched, transfixed, as Hannibal bared his teeth in the mirror, felt his mouth water again. He wasn't being subtle, there was no point to it. If Hannibal would detect it either way, and he would, then the only reason to be coy would be plausible deniability. 

Hannibal cast him a sidelong glance, looking oddly pleased about the attention. He shuddered. 

Will wasn't sure what his type was before Hannibal, but the man standing in the bathroom wouldn't have been it. Even now, as intertwined as they'd become, it was difficult for Will to determine if he actually found him handsome. He found Hannibal attractive in the way one might find a volcano attractive. Uncontrollable. Destructive. Hot. 

"I didn't ask you about it before because I was hoping you'd come to me. But I must confess I'm all but brimming with curiosity." 

"You saw me last night?" 

Hannibal smirked at him. "And the night before." 

Will could do little more than nod. 

"So what is it about my nightly routine that you find so interesting? Certainly it can't be that captivating to watch a man apply moisturizer." 

Will swallowed, thinking if he should lie. But he couldn't, Hannibal saw right through him. He might as well be asking as a formality. 

He closed his eyes. Chilton. Dolarhyde. Will. Hannibal. 

"I've been...thinking a lot about teeth, lately." 

Hannibal's amusement became more apparent. "You're interested in teeth?" 

"Interested in what they can do," He clarified. "Yours. Mine. Mostly yours." 

Hannibal took a step forward, already entering Will's personal space. Christ he looked smug. "Would you like a demonstration, Will?" 

It was hot in this bathroom, the air felt thick. Will could almost taste Hannibal's scent on the air, musky and dark, with some sharp element that Will couldn't identify. 

Hannibal leaned in, lips parting. He was slow and deliberate, giving Will ample time to deny him. Perhaps he was expecting him to. 

Hannibal ducked his head a bit, and Will couldn't help gasping at the feeling of Hannibals mouth on his lower lip. He grazed his teeth along Wills lip, barely enough to feel them, then bit down lightly. Just enough to get a grip. He tugged Will's lip away, holding it fast. Gently, so gently it was almost unnerving. Then released it, the flesh springing back into place. 

Will sighed, eyes fixed on Hannibal's mouth. The two of them were still, the only sound was Will's blood rushing in his ears. He realized he was breathing quite hard- not panting, but harder than would be polite considering their proximity. If Hannibal found it rude, he kept it to himself. Hannibal's eyes held that wicked spark of curiosity, and Will knew that he was studying. Lying in wait. 

Your move, Graham. Your psychiatrist just asked you a simple question: 'And how does that make you feel?' 

Will grabbed Hannibal by the jaw, pulling him in like air to the drowning. He kissed him, hard. Hannibal took the action as permission, meeting Will with matched ferocity. Their teeth knocked with a satisfying clatter that made Will groan into his mouth, and Hannibal seemed to chase that sound with intent. He bit Will's lip again, harder this time, and the roll of his hips is instinctive, animal. 

Hannibal moved to Will's neck, nipping and sucking at various places and pressures. It edged on methodical, and Will realized that Hannibal was experimenting. He was creating a mental catalog, exhaustive data on how to get every distinct moan and sigh from Will's lips. He let himself be verbal, removing any need for embarrassment, allowing Hannibal to gather any information he wanted. 

Their lips met again, hunger licking at their bodies like desperate flames. Will dug his nails into Hannibal's back, thanking any God listening that his partner in crime always went to bed shirtless. 

Will forced his tongue into Hannibal's mouth, running it along the inside of his lower lip. He licked at Hannibal's teeth, making a map of this forbidden, cursed place. How many bodies had found themselves here? 

It dawned on him that Hannibal had stilled. His hands still gripped Will's hips, but his mouth was calm, pliant against his own. The heat of depravity burned his skin, making him feel powerful and raw. Hannibal was letting Will explore, patiently indulging his fascination. He took his time, savoring the experience, and dragged his tongue along each of Hannibal's teeth, paying special attention to the sharp tips of his canines and incisors. 

Will was dizzy when he finally pulled away, resting his head against the bathroom wall. "God," he sighed, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

It took a moment for Will to open his eyes, but when he did he felt sick. Hannibal looked so proud, like he'd just pulled off some incredible trick and was drinking in the applause. 

"All we've been through, yet you never cease to intrigue me, Will Graham." 

Will swallowed any snide remarks when Hannibal pulled down Will's sweatpants, kneeling on the tile floor. Will moved automatically, removing his T-shirt and tossing it into the darkness of Hannibal's bedroom. 

Hannibal maintained their eye contact as he took Will's cock into his mouth. It was a game of chicken that Will didn't mind losing, just this once, and he shut his eyes, concentrating on the feeling instead. 

Hannibal took it well, and Will thought to himself that it must not be his first rodeo, as it were. "Fuck," he hissed, relishing in the moisture, the contact, the heat. That warmth, an ever present reminder that Hannibal was something living, something primal. 

Will rolled his hips, fighting the rhythm Hannibal had created by reflex. Hannibal groaned around him, and Will reached down to grasp a fistful of his hair in response. 

Will opened his eyes, trembling, and saw Hannibal looking up at him. Slowly, deliberately, Hannibal ran his tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. 

Will's vision flashed. He saw himself as Hannibal, beneath him. He could feel the pulse throbbing in the vein, could practically taste the blood rushing along it. He felt a familiar, primal wickedness in the pit of his stomach and knew that 'practically' wasn't enough. His jaws snapped shut. 

Back in his own skin, he let out a loud moan, snapping his hips deeper immediately. Hannibal hadn't bitten him, of course, but the vision set his flesh alight all the same. Hannibal's mouth was frightening, evil. It was the most dangerous part of him, and Will felt a wave of hot shame at his desire to bear witness to its violence. 

Hannibal licked the vein again, pressing against it with his tongue. Will bit his lip to contain his own voice. Hannibal had taken note of Will's reaction, but did he understand why? Will tried in vain to steady his breathing. 

Hannibal stilled. With a great deal of care, he readjusted his jaw, setting it closer. Not so close that he was biting, or even restricting Will's movement. Just enough to make his mouth feel suddenly cramped. He pulled back slightly, and Will understood Hannibals calculations straight away. As he moved, his teeth dragged along his skin. Not dangerous, except in potentia, but enough to garner Will's full desperation. 

Will let out a high keen, gripping more tightly at Hannibal's hair. He thrust deep, teeth catching in a way that teased the edges of pain. He fucked into Hannibal's mouth, quickly losing his composure. 

Will growled when, after a minute, Hannibal pulled away and stood. He rutted against air, then against Hannibal when he was pulled in for another suffocating kiss. Without a word, Hannibal pulled Will by his wrist into his bedroom. He turned on the lights, sitting on the edge of his bed. 

"Sit," he commanded, voice rough and dark. Will didn't resist when he was pulled into Hannibal's lap, facing away from him. Will could feel his cock beneath him, wondered for a moment why Hannibal hadn't so much as touched himself. Perhaps he wanted lucidity, hoping to immortalize this moment. How much space would this evening take up in Hannibals memory palace? A room, a wing? Had he already built a separate one, a monument to his devotion? Will's ego intoxicated him with the thought of it. 

Hannibal stroked Will's cock, firm and even. Will bucked his hips, rejoicing at the regained contact. Hannibal rested his head on Will's shoulder, inhaling deeply to take in his scent. Whether it was premeditated or an attack of opportunity, Will couldn't say, but he still felt a rush of pride when he reached back and shoved two fingers into Hannibal's mouth. Hannibal lavished them, naturally. He knew what Will wanted, and was eager to please. Will could feel his orgasm hot on his heels, chasing him down. Once again, he felt Hannibal's teeth, his head clouded with ecstacy. 

Distantly, he remembered something Bedelia had told him once. 'Hannibal hungers for you daily,' she'd said. 'He is nourished at the sight of you'. If his sight alone could nourish Hannibal, what might he do with access to Will's flesh? Hannibal had done much to elevate Will's ego, he was fully aware that the monster behind him viewed him as something Other, something precious and remarkable. 

A delicacy. 

Could his meat, his blood, sate Hannibal the Cannibal? If he gave up his flesh as an offering to this animal, this demon, would he see a point in consuming other men? Will imagined it, his meat proving so divine that mortal men were reduced to livestock in Hannibal's eyes, driving him to settle for cattle and pigs and remember his grandest feast. 

Would he even bother to cook and serve Will, given the opportunity? Or would he want the flesh in its purest state, and decide to eat him raw? 

Another vision flashed before Will's eyes, of Hannibal. Covered in blood, licking his lips to savour its taste. Indulging himself, he runs his tongue along his teeth. 

"Bite me," Will gasped, removing his hand from Hannibal's mouth. 

Hannibal dipped his head toward Will's jaw, nipping at him tenderly. 

Will hissed in frustration, could feel himself nearing the edge. "God, At least pretend you mean it," He spat. 

Hannibal bit him again, further down. It stung, it was definitely enough to leave a mark, but it was like any bite one might expect from particularly rough love making. 

Will cried out, rage and desire mingling within him. "This is all you wanted, right? You fantasize about this, I know you do," He said, righteous anger fueling his fire. "I'm giving it to you, Hannibal! Fucking take it- ah!" 

Hannibal's teeth sunk in near his shoulder, far from any arteries he could puncture. Will couldn't see Hannibal's act, but he could feel it with screaming clarity. He felt blood trickle down his back, Hannibal's teeth rending flesh from flesh, further lifting Will to the divine. 

Will shouted when he came, screaming Hannibal's name like a prayer on his lips. He trembled, adrenaline coursing through his body. He couldn't control himself, was distantly aware that he was still moaning with the passing of his shuddering breaths. 

He felt Hannibal tense beneath him as he tore away Will's flesh, ushering it reverently into his welcoming mouth. He groaned low as he savored it on his tongue, eyes closed in worship. Will felt his thighs shake, his errection twitched noticeably against Will. Will watched him swallow, slowly, and sigh. 

Hannibal came in his pants, untouched, from the euphoria of tasting him. Will wanted to feel disgusted, horrified even. Instead he felt powerful. 

Hannibal lowered his head again, and Will felt a chill of fear rise along his spine. He anticipated Hannibal losing all composure, unable to resist like a shark smelling blood on the current, and eating him alive. 

Will shivered at the feeling of Hannibal's tongue as it glided up his back, tracing the rivulets of blood back to their source. He mouthed gently at the wound, and Will felt a sting where Hannibals tongue met torn flesh. When he at last pulled away, Will angled his neck to see his work. It wasn't terribly large or deep, he'd had worse wounds at the hands of Hannibal himself, without even considering other men. 

Just a taste. 

Will closed his eyes, struggling to finally catch his breath. 

"Never do that to me again," he said disdainfully, shaking still as he moved to sit on the bed beside Hannibal. 

"I won't. Not unless you ask me to." 

Hannibal stood, wiping some sweat from his brow. "I'll put a bandage on that, if you like." 

When Hannibal left, Will took a closer look at his wound. The scent of sex and blood mingled in the air, making him feel something very far from human. A fresh trickle of blood left the wound, though Hannibal had certainly taken as much as he could. He glanced at the empty doorway before collecting a drop on his finger and bringing it to his lips. It was hot and heavy on his tongue, effortlessly reminding him of Cordell, the way his blood filled Will's mouth. 

He watched his blood pool in the small basin of the bite. It seemed a shame for it to go to waste. 

He placed his hand on the bite, warm liquid seeping onto his palm. He saw Hannibal return in his periphery, but he saw no sense in keeping up pretenses. 

He licked flatly along his palm, looking up at Hannibal. Hannibal smiled and for once it didn't make Will feel sick. 

"'The wine of life is drawn'," Hannibal quoted, settling behind Will with a bandage. 

"Think Shakespeare ever sampled from the bottle himself?" Will asked. 

"Most men have, if only by accident." 

Will shook his head, staring at nothing. "I don't remember it feeling like this. Violence. Pain. Blood. I never felt...attracted to those things until I met you." 

Hannibal smoothed the bandage over his sins, and pressed a kiss to Will's back. "The wine of life is an acquired taste, Will. Her flavor makes itself known when we are ready for her." 

Will moved to stand. "I should head to bed." 

Hannibal grabbed him by the wrist. He found no resistance. "Stay with me tonight. I know you're exhausted, and you'll sleep better with a partner." 

Will hesitated for a moment before relenting. He fell against Hannibal's mattress, half-watching as Hannibal stood to change. 

"Are we going to do that again?" 

"If you'd like," Hannibal replied, not bothering to turn around. "You've given me an unforgettable meal tonight, Will. It would be rude of me not to reciprocate." 

Will closed his eyes, body feeling heavy, boneless. "Reciprocate?" 

He could see the light turn off beyond his eyelids, feel the weight shift as Hannibal joined him. 

"You have a craving for the wine of life. Perhaps I could offer you a tasting pour of my own reserve." 

Will felt his heart skip a beat, he rolled to face his bedfellow, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. He could barely make out Hannibal's playful smile in the darkness. 

"Did you just offer to let me drink your blood?" 

Hannibal drew near, tilting Will's chin upwards to meet his lips. He kissed him slowly, savoring the flavor. When Hannibal spoke, it was a murmur along Will's skin. 

"You'll find that there are very few things I wouldn't offer to you, my dear Will."


End file.
